The Young & The Restless
by phayte1978
Summary: In an alternate universe - Canon is Canon, but Victor is young, the same age as Yuri. This is in a non-linear timeline.
1. Chapter 1

He was fourteen the first time he skated against Victor. The long haired pretty boy had come out of nowhere— a year older and so much better. They were both in juniors and Yuri could not believe he had to push himself against another competitor. It pissed him off, and he hated that long silver haired kid.

"Why did Yakov have to have two in juniors at the same level?" Yuri asked himself, leaning against the wall, watching as Victor spiraled into a quad flip and landed perfectly.

"Oh Yuri! You are so grumpy!" Mila said, wrapping her arms around him. "You are just upset you have actual competition coming up as you enter seniors!"

Shaking her off of him, Yuri stomped off and slid out on the ice. He hated that Victor was here now. It had been a year now, and all he could do was glare at the boy with the long hair as he twirled on the ice, his laughter trailing behind him. No one could be that happy.

Sliding next to Victor, Yuuri kicked snow at him— trying to make the laughter stop. It was when Victor's head tilted back, his mouth turning a heart shape that he laughed even more.

"Yuri! You covered me in snow!" Victor giggled out, brushing snow off his shoulders and out his hair.

Rolling his eyes, Yuri went to go work his routine. He did not need some kid distracting him. He had had enough to deal with as it was.

Victor was everything Yuri was not. Light hearted, bubbly, energetic— exactly what the skating world wanted. He dressed himself up pretty and smiled for the cameras and his fans. Victor was the doey eyed youngster Yuri could not pull off. Yakov babied Victor more, bent more to his wishes. Whenever Yuri had an idea, Yakov cursed him out and sent him to skate laps.

Victor was everything Yuri hated in a person.

* * *

Fingers pushed into Victor's whining mouth. Yuri's lips turned up into a snarl. He had beaten Victor at the Grand Prix Finals— which only meant that Victor was bottoming tonight. He did not understand how Victor was still smiling, even though he had silver around his neck. Pushing his fingers further into Victor's mouth, Yuri smirked at the gagging sounds.

"Would have thought a pretty thing like you would be used to this," Yuri said, pushing his fingers in deeper.

Victor grabbed his wrist, pulling his fingers out his mouth. "Stop being mean!"

Growling, Yuri cupped his hand over where Victor was hard, his fingers tracing over the outline of his cock in his costume. "You like it when I am mean to you."

Victor pushed at Yuri, making him stumble back. This was so unlike him. Usually when Yuri was mean to him, it turned him on and things progressed— at least that was how it all started. Sitting on the bed, he watched Victor take his hair out of the high ponytail on his head, that silver hair cascading down his back.

"A deal is a deal," Yuri said, leaning back on the bed.

"Whatever," Victor said, undoing the zipper on his costume, walking by him and closing the bathroom door behind him.

"Fine! Fuck you, Victor!" Yuri said, pulling at his own costume. He should probably shower, but he did not care. Grabbing his phone, he texted to Otabek— but got no answer. Changing out of his costume, he stomped out the room in hopes of something better to do.

Yakov and Lilia were drinking down at the hotel bar— dismissing him almost immediately. He saw Otabek leaving out the hotel, calling out for him, Yuri chased him down.

* * *

"Yuri! Let's do a quad challenge!" Victor said, skating next to Yuri as practice was coming to an end.

"We have been skating a solid four hours! Are you crazy?"

Laughing, Victor grabbed Yuri's hand, and pulled him behind him. "Come on sour puss! You have been serious all day! Have some fun!"

Victor loved the ice. He would practice longer if Yakov would allow him. They did ballet in the morning and skating in the afternoon. They were forced a few hours to rest and eat then they had evening practice.

"Isn't it bad enough we bunk together? Now you want to hang out more?" Yuri growled behind him.

"We are skating for fun!" Victor sang out, pulling Yuri so his body swung out around him.

He could hear as Yuri growled, but as he let go of his hand, he skated ahead of him then launched into a quad toe.

"Yes, Yuri!" Victor cried out, happy that Yuri was loosening up around him. It had been a rocky last year. Coming to the Russian team, having Yuri hate him instantly. Victor was loving everyone on the team and how welcoming they were— it just took longer to get Yuri to warm up to him.

Victor was never one to quit. Even though Yuri was a cat person, he warmed up quickly to Makkachin. They were close to the same size, both waiting for their growth spurts to catch them, so offering to share clothes had put a light in Yuri's eyes he didn't see often.

Yuri was so different than him— he skated with anger and he was edgy.

Victor was light hearted, and bubbly. Many times during break he sat and allowed Mila and the girls to braid his hair and add flowers to it before they had to get back to practice. Yuri would sit on his phone ignoring them all.

"Ok! Who ever does the most clean quads get to make the loser do whatever they want!" Victor sang out as he took off across the ice, picking up speed and landing a perfect quad.

"You're on asshole!"

* * *

Skate Canada was an eye opener for Yuri. He just knew he would go in there and capture gold. So why the fuck was he standing holding a silver? Looking up, he saw why— Jean-Jacques Leroy was why.

Pissed was not even the word he could properly use to explain how he felt. He had poured his heart and soul on the ice. Lilia had set him up with a strong program for his free program and he used the opposite program Victor was using.

JJ just had more.

His base value still outdid his. His quads were always high and clean. It was a damn shame. After their mandatory pictures, Yuri threw his bouquet of flowers at Yakov and stormed off to his room. Checking his phone, he saw Victor had been texting him.

 **Victor** \- _Call me once you get a chance!_

Rolling his eyes, Yuri found him calling over to Victor.

"Yuri! I watched your program! You were so good!" Victor squeaked out on the phone.

"I got silver."

"You still did amazing!"

Hearing Victor tell him this did help calm down his anger. Yakov had only chastised him, telling him everything he did wrong. Lilia said he was beautiful but needed to work harder. Hearing someone saying he did well was what he needed.

"You better get ready for Skate America next week," Yuri growled into the phone.

"Oh you know I got this!" Victor squealed. "I am rocking that eros program too!"

Victor was always so sure of himself— but it was the opposite way Yuri was sure of himself. They both had confidence, but where Yuri was trying to prove his confidence to everyone— Victor's just came naturally.

"Don't be so sure of yourself."

"Oh you know I got this!" Victor said. "Just cheer me on from home and I'll skate my best for you!"

* * *

"Yakov! Are you crazy? Taking on more skaters for the seniors?" Lilia said as he poured herself another brandy.

"They are all talented. How can I not?"

Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose as Potya purred in her lap. Running her hands through the soft fur, she had to wonder how she came about having two teenagers under her roof.

"You are getting soft in your old age," Lilia said, sipping her brandy.

"Says the woman with one of my skater's cat in their lap and a dog at her feet."

Looking down, she had never seen a dog so large as Makkachin, but the dog was lovable and she found a soft spot for these two balls of fur.

"Are you really allowing Victor to the short programs?" Lilia asked.

"Da, didn't you see his choreography in juniors? Having Yuri and him skate opposing themes will be good for them both."

"It will draw them attention, this is true… though I have to say… they should have switched their themes around."

"You know Victor always does the opposite of what we ask him."

Lilia nodded, this was true. She thought Victor was more suited for the agape piece, but he was determined to skate to Eros. There was a huge fight with Yuri over the music and piece— but in the end, Victor wooed his way into what he wanted.

"I just hope you know what you are getting into," Lilia said before draining her glass. Having teenagers around was not easy work.

* * *

Yuri was pissed. Not only was he moving in with Lilia and Yakov, so was Victor. They would share a small room. Two small beds on each side of the room and two small desks with a shared closet. It made him wonder why he continued to do this, but then he remembered his grandpa and would sigh deeply.

Victor was over on his side of the room, hanging up a posters of the skater Yuuri Katsuki.

"That skater is nothing but nerves and falls," Yuri said, setting up his laptop.

"Have you seen his footwork? I can't take my eyes off of him!" Victor proclaimed, clutching his hands to his heart.

The last thing Yuri needed reminding of was the loser he screamed at not that long ago. How does one make it to the Grand Prix Finals, then go cry in the bathroom.

"I hear he is giving up skating," Yuri said.

"No! Didn't you see? Lambiel took him under his wing as his coach!" Victor squeaked out.

"What a waste of time," Yuri said, pulling his headphones on, ignoring the rest of the gushing Victor was liable to do over that fat pig. He was never sure what Victor saw in that pig anyways. He never landed his jumps and you could see his love handles as he skated. Skaters were meant to be fit and in top shape. How could Victor be so hung up over someone so plain?

Yuri even hated he found himself comparing the two of them.

He even found himself glaring at a poster one night, wondering what this guy had that he didn't? Maybe because he was older? Or the way the extra weight on him gave him soft curves? He hated himself for even wondering.

* * *

Victor was not sure why he had done it. Yuri had been screaming at him— but to be fair, Yuri always screamed at him.

It had been a rough week, Skate Canada and America behind them— Yuri and him both getting silver and both of them changing their programs to up the base scores. They pushed harder than usual and were more on edge. Yuri had bitched Victor used all the hot water and screamed at him over his long hair being the reason.

"I swear you will wake up to a bald head!" Yuri screamed.

"Never touch my hair!"

That was when Yuri reached out and grabbed a lock of his hair, pulling it. Victor gasped and grabbed Yuri's— returning the favor. It led to them both screaming and pulling each other's hair. Neither of them were letting up and when Victor went to knee Yuri in the stomach, they fell to the bed.

Their hands tangled in each other's hair as Yuri growled at him. Victor had the advantage with his knee in Yuri's stomach, pinning him to the bed. He hated fighting with Yuri, he really did. When Yuri let go of his hair, they pulled away and sat up.

The glare was out of Yuri's eyes— replaced with tears. Victor was scared he had hurt Yuri. Leaning in, he was very close to Yuri.

"What? Never seen anyone upset?" Yuri asked.

"I've never seen you cry."

Yuri went to push him. Victor grabbed his hands and pulled him to him. Crashing back on the bed, Yuri was on top of him and Victor only saw eyes filled with tears. Leaning up, he kissed Yuri. He was not sure why he did it, he just felt it was the right thing to do. Their lips brushed together and Victor could feel the wetness on Yuri's face as his lips trembled.

A gasp and Yuri jumped off the bed. He was left just laying there as Yuri stormed out the room. Touching his finger to his lips, Victor was not sure what had just happened—but his heart was racing and his mind spinning over it all. He couldn't take his fingers from his lips, remembering where they had just touched Yuri's. Where just moments ago he was so angry and mad, he was giddy and happy now.

* * *

Where the hell was Otabek? Yuri could not find him anywhere. He had not expected in Barcelona to meet someone like him. He was so use to Victor who rambled on nonstop about everything, but with Otabek it was a different air. Otabek was serious and more laid back. They had spent the day shopping and Yuri had ignored his phone— Victor had been texting him all day wondering where he was and what he was doing.

Sure, Yuri probably should have told him he would be out all day and that he was hanging out with Otabek— but it wasn't like him and Victor were a couple. Ok, sure, they had messed around and even joked about going all the way at the Grand Prix Finals, but nothing was defined. It was just a good way to blow off steam.

He had everyone looking for Otabek and they found out he was at a club in the city. Yuri wanted to get down there and find him. The music was loud and Yuri felt a pang of regret for leaving Victor back at the hotel room. Maybe he should have invited Victor with him?

It was when he was thrown on his ass on the sidewalk that Yuri decided maybe this was a bad idea. If Otabek had wanted to hang out with that night, he would have answered his text.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Yuri stopped, leaning against a lamp post. There were a few messages from Victor. Sighing deeply, he sent a text saying he was headed to the ice and to bring their skates.

Hoping on the next bus, he took the ride across the city to the arena. Sure enough, Victor was there with their bags. Yuri was used to seeing a smile on his face, but his hair was down and shadow covered his expression.

"What are we doing?" Victor asked as he handed his bag to him.

"Making me a new exhibition program."

* * *

It was nice having someone in ballet class on his level. They were always in a room with girls and older skaters— he always felt out of place. Having Yuri with him now, as a friend, made life easier. He remembered when this all started, Yuri tried to outdo him in everything. Leaps across the rooms, dizzying spins till they both would fall over. Instead of being a force against each other, they used that energy to work together.

Thinking back from where they were to where they had come, it was nice having someone so close in age to him that understood.

Tying back his hair, his body needed a good stretch.

"Yuri, help me stretch?"

A quick nod as Yuri pulled his leg warmers up and jumped to his feet. No one had made it to the classroom yet, so they had time to stretch out real good. Laying on his back, he let Yuri grab his leg and push it till his foot was over his head, touching the floor.

"You're tight," Yuri grunted out, pushing his body down on his leg. "Let's warm up a bit first, then stretch."

Going through their positions, Victor had to envy how easy it all was to Yuri— or at least how easy he made it look. His body moved so effortlessly, though he always had his brow crinkled. With their bodies warmer, Victor laid back on the mat as Yuri pushed and pulled his limbs around. Changing positions, Victor was stretching out Yuri and listening to him complain over his hair.

"You could at least put it in a bun so it doesn't drape all over me!" Yuri bitched out, tugging a strand that was tickling at his face.

"Maybe I like when you pull it," Victor said, smirking back at Yuri.

"Gross!" Yuri said, pushing Victor off of him, then grabbing his hair. "Here, let me fix it."

Crossing his legs on the floor, Victor sat as he felt Yuri's fingers along his scalp, gathering his hair. Victor told himself it was a hassle to pull his hair in a bun— that it wasn't so Yuri would fix it for him.

* * *

The problem with sharing a room with Victor— long strands of hair seem to be everywhere. Between Makkachin, Poyta and Victor, Yuri felt his life was nothing but lint rollers and plucking stray hairs off of him.

"Seriously, Victor! Stay off my bed!" he growled out, pulling another strand off his comforter.

"Oh get off it! I have blonde hair on my bed!"

"You do not!"

"Do so! Come look!"

Yuri bounced up and stomped over where Victor was. Victor giggled and held up a golden strand of hair. Rolling his eyes he went to shrug it off— but Victor rose to his knees and planted a kiss on his lips.

 _After the other week and their fight— the air between them had changed. Yuri was not sure what it was, maybe with his break down, maybe that barrier was crossed— but he didn't push Victor away. It was on the next night they had kissed again—this time Yuri initiating it. Grabbing Victor by his shirt, pulling them together, their teeth knocking together. Victor giggled and hesitantly put his hand on Yuri's shoulder, and they tried again._

 _Neither was sure what to do, but their bodies seem to lead them through it. Lips slowly moving against the other till they pulled away. Victor's cheeks pink and he was sure his were too._

 _"You should smile more often," Victor said as his hand ran down his cheek._

 _Yuri rolled his eyes and went back to his side of the room._

 _They had spent many nights jerking off in their beds, hearing the other breath funny and the bed jerk. They never spoke about it, but the moment Yuri heard the small tiny gasp from the other side of the room, he would reach his hands under the blankets. After the first few times, they stopped even trying to be quiet about it. Wet sounds accompanied by small grunts and gasp. Yuri would never admit it, but he always waited for Victor to start first, then he joined in. It was a small shared secret they had at night in their small little room._

"You planted that there," Yuri said before sitting on the edge of Victor's bed.

"So what if I did?" Victor asked, pulling out a brush, running it through Yuri's hair.

"Could have just called me over."

"This was more fun!" Victor giggled out, pushing his hair off his neck and kissing the exposed skin.

It was a weak spot for Yuri— they had both learned, and Victor took advantage of kissing Yuri on his neck. A low moan and Yuri turned, pushing Victor down on the bed. There was an innocence to Victor as his hair fanned out around him, the way he bit his lip, and how his eyes looked up at him. Holding his wrist down, Yuri liked feeling like he was in control. Victor liked to give it over.

Noisy, wet kisses shared— bodies rutting against each other. It was close to bedtime and Yuri preferred getting off this way than jerking himself under the covers.

* * *

"Asshole! Get out of my way!" Yuri yelled as he skated very close to Victor right as Victor landed his axle.

"Yuri! Share the ice!" Yakov screamed out.

Yakov had told them they would be moving in with Lilia for the season. Yuri was pissed and took it out on Victor. He wanted nothing to do with him. His stupid hair, his stupid beautiful face— he hated him. He was suppose to the be star! Not this doey eyed, baby faced, long haired freak.

Picking up speed, Yuri skated towards Victor again, jumping into a triple and landing right next to Victor, only as he landed, they both tumbled down.

"Yuri!" Yakov screamed.

Both boys groaned as they hit the ice.

"Are you ok?" Victor asked.

The asshole was even nice. Here he was, being a jerk, and Victor was concerned about him. Maybe he was the one being an idiot.

"Yeah… sorry about that," Yuri said, lifting back up and skating off. Yakov was yelling for him and as he approached him, his bellowing yell echoed off the walls.

"I will take you out of this as fast as I put you in this!"

He knew he had fucked up—big time. He saw Victor standing on the side of next to the wall as Mila hugged him and petted at his hair. Yakov continued to yell at him as Yuri looked across the ice, seeing a tear fall down Victor's cheek. For some reason, that made him feel far worse than anything Yakov could have said

* * *

"There is no way you can change up your exhibition skate!" Victor squeaked out as they got entrance into the arena.

Yuri was lucky the guard was young and smiled at them both. They smiled sweetly and wooed their way in.

"Yes I can and I will! Now are you going to help me?" Yuri asked.

"Only if you apologize," Victor said, crossing his arms, standing his ground.

"Apologize for what?"

Victor gave Yuri a stern look, he was not budging. Rolling his eyes, Yuri sighed and leaned against the wall—both boys staring the other down.

"What am I even apologizing for?"

"You know why!" Victor hissed out.

Yuri knew he had been an ass, but he was always an ass. He figured after all this time that Victor would have been used to it, but he also knew Victor was more sensitive "Ok, fine… sorry for being an ass in the hotel room."

Victor squint his eyes at Yuri. "That I am use to from you."

"Then what is it? Look, we don't have all night and I need a new routine."

Victor's head dropped and he looked away from Yuri. "Then you better start thinking harder."

* * *

Rostelecom was a mass of energy that swirled around them. Yuri was running off with his grandpa for a bit and Victor decided to get in some extra practice time. He saw a handful of skaters from other countries he was slowly getting to know and remembered from Juniors, but it was all still overwhelming.

It was weird not having Yuri around him. He had gotten so use to him just being there. Their schedules very similar between practice and free time. It was probably better that he went and hid in his room anyway.

Pushing the button to the elevator, he felt a presence step next to him. Turning around, he saw Yuuri Katsuki standing there, casually holding his bag. Gasping, Victor fumbled and almost fell over, his bag tumbling to the ground.

"Oh! Let me help you," Yuuri said, bending down to get the bag and help Victor. He felt frozen in place and Yuuri slid his bag strap up on his shoulder.

"You are Nikiforov, right?" Yuuri asked. "Your short program is really good."

Victor wished he could say something, but his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding. Even when he stepped on the elevator, he was surprised he remember which floor he was supposed to. There was a warmth to Yuuri's eyes as he smiled at him on the elevator. As the elevator dinged the floor, Yuuri smiled sweetly at him. "Good luck this weekend." Then stepped out.

Victor took a deep breath and melted to the back wall of the elevator as the doors closed. It was moments like this he wished Yuri was there so he could gush and squeal over it. Pulling out his phone, he would just have to call him and tell him all about it.

* * *

"I have no idea what you even see in him anyway," Yuri mumbled as he gently stroked the black polish over Victor's finger. It amused Yuri how Victor was the soft one, but wore the dark colored polishes all the time. He was sure if he did it, Yakov would throw a fit.

"He is beautiful," Victor dreamily sighed out.

They were sitting on Victor's side of the room, posters of Yuuri Katsuki covering his half of the room. At first Yuri was creeped out by it, but after time—it grew on him. He even had to admit, Katsuki had a nice ass.

"He fails his jumps... and he got fat last year," Yuri grumbled.

"But his footwork is to die for! I can't take my eyes off of him when he skates!" Victor giggled out, "Plus… I like a little weight on him, makes him look soft."

"Gross!"

Victor giggled as Yuri finished his nails and laid back on his pillows, blowing on the wet polish. "Toes!"

Yuri pinched a toe wiggling at him before dipping the brush back in the bottle and painting his toes. Every now and then he would tickle the bottom of Victor's foot just to hear him squeal out in laughter.

"I'm glad you stopped hating me," Victor said.

"What makes you think this?" Yuri asked, swiping more polish across the last of Victor's toes.

"Well you stopped growling at me for one!"

"I growl at everyone."

"You don't jump in front of me on the ice anymore."

"Yakov yelled at me too bad."

"I like you."

Yuri stopped what he was doing— there was one toe left. What did that mean?

"Um…"

"You know… like I like you," Victor stammered. "I am glad we are friends."

Yuri could feel his cheeks getting warm, why the hell was he blushing? "Don't get all sentimental on me. What you like is that Japanese piggy."

Victor giggled. "Yeah, I really do."

Victor got that far off expression and Yuri rolled his eyes while painting the last of his toes.

* * *

Victor knew he was running late and ran as hard as his legs would carry him. Once he approached the alley where they were to meet, he saw the back end of Yuri on a motorbike—taking off in the opposite direction.

He had tucked his hair into a hat to be less noticeable out and about—and he was glad he did. Surrounded by Yuri's Angles, they were snapping pictures and squealing over what had just happen.

"Who was that?" Victor asked.

"That was Otabek Altin!" one of the girls screamed.

Victor never did hear from Yuri all day. It was late evening when Yuri came skipping into their room and falling on his bed, laying his head in his lap. He looked happy and Victor had to smile down at him.

It was hard being happy for your friend, but jealous at the same time.

"Victor! It was great! Otabek took me everywhere around the city and then we went to have dinner!"

Victor had never heard Yuri speak so enthusiast before. It dug at something inside of him. They were supposed to have gone out that day, they were supposed to have dinner with all the skaters. But he had been forgotten—left behind. Forcing a smile on his face, Victor knew he should be happy for his friend and listen as Yuri went on and on over how cool Otabek was.

It was not long before Yuri was curl up next to Victor, his hands tangled in his long hair and all was quiet.

If Yuri thought Otabek was so cool, why was he still curled up next to him then? Why didn't he go run off with Otabek?

Victor let jealousy get the best of him. Flipping Yuri over, he straddled him and started to kiss Yuri deeply. Small moans filling the room instantly as their hard needy bodies pressed against one another. He loved how Yuri would gently bite his lip and pull his hair. This was the Grand Prix Finals and they were finally going to go all the way. Yuri didn't need some boy on a motorbike. Not when he had him. Rolling his hips again, he wanted to remind Yuri what was right in front of him this entire time.

* * *

Exhibitions skates aside, medals handed out—another season come and gone. Yuri had been blasted out by Yakov and Lilia for his stunt on the ice. Minutes before it was time for his skate, he turned to Otabek, "Hey! At the cue! Come out to the ice… but just stand on the side, Ok?"

Otabek nodded his head.

Looking out on the ice, Yuri watched as Victor skated an old skate by Yuuri Katsuki. Of all the things he could have come up with or done, he picked one of Yuuri's first routines. He did not understand what Victor saw in Yuuri. Sure, his footwork was amazing, and he had to admit he did have a nice ass. He also wasn't all that bad looking with his hair pushed back. Maybe he was missing something, he couldn't put his finger on it.

This year had done Yuuri good though. With his new coach—he had a solid performance and managed to grab the bronze. Yuri thought Victor was going to faint when all three of them shared the podium. He hated to admit it, but Victor looked amazing in his costume with his hair high on his head and a blue rose crown adorned his head.

"Your friend is really good," Otabek said.

"Yeah but I am better."

He had admit, Victor looked happy as he skated.

* * *

It was well known the banquets could easily get out hand. Yuri and Victor were able to sneak more than enough glasses of champagne to be on the verge of drunk. Victor was hanging on Yuri, his hair a mess all around him. Somehow his finger was twirling at Victor's hair as they watched everyone around them dance and laugh.

"Oh wow!" Victor breathed out.

Turning his head, Yuri saw where Chris and Yuuri were dancing provocatively against each other. Both of them with their shirts unbuttoned and ties tied around their head.

"I bet you wish you were Chris," Yuri whispered, twirling Victor's long hair around his figure again.

Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri's waist, laying his head on his shoulder. "Oh you know it! Maybe I should go out there!"

"How much have you had to drink?"

Victor giggled. "The same amount you have!"

That meant Victor was about as drunk as he was. He was not sure if Victor was hugging him or just holding himself up. Their heads were fuzzy and their bodies drunk. All the other skaters were dancing and cheering on Yuuri and Chris as they continued to strip down and swing around a pole.

Yuri could have sworn Victor was drooling at this point. He had never seen two people pole dance—especially at the banquet.

Somehow Victor had managed to grab more champagne for them. Even leaning against the wall, standing upright was hard. Their suit jackets were long gone and their ties partly undone.

"This is my chance!" Victor said to Yuri.

"What?"

"My chance!"

"What are you going on on about? Do you want to leave or something?" They still had their deal to follow through with, Yuri did not want to admit he was looking forward to it. The idea of Victor under him and them _finally_ having sex, rushed a thrill through his body.

Yuri watched as Victor stumbled across the floor and made his way over where Yuuri was putting his clothes back on. Chris and Yuuri laughing loudly as they pulled their shirts back on. It was that moment Victor had stumbled and fell into Yuuri.

"Be my coach, Yuuri! Be my coach!"


	2. Chapter 2

Victor was holding Yuri in their hotel, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

"Do you think you would have listened?" Yuri asked, wrapping his arms harder around Victor.

It had shocked him when Victor went and practically dry humped Yuuri in front of everyone— begging him to be his coach. Somehow he managed to pull Victor off of Yuuri with the help of Chris and they quickly ran back to their room. He was sure Yakov would scold them both later for being drunk.

"Like you would have listened if I even tried."

"I made an ass of myself!"

When Victor pulled away from Yuri's embrace, his face was red and puffy. They were still very drunk from the banquet—using his thumb, Yuri wiped tears off Victor's cheek. Blue watery eyes blinking at him as Victor took his face in his hands and kissed him. It was soft and wet— it was everything he did not want in their kiss. Victor was still crying as their tongues met, his tears making a mess of his face.

Yuri tried to push him away, but Victor pulled him on top of him. "Please Yuri! I need this!"

There was no way Yuri could take advantage of Victor. Even in their drunken state, he knew Victor was only upset over Yuuri, and it would be wrong.

"We made a promise!" Victor cried out, biting at his neck.

There were no words Yuri could think of to make it alright with Victor, but he knew fucking him right now was wrong. Pushing his hand down Victor's pants, he felt Victor was not even hard.

"Victor… we are drunk… let's go to sleep," Yuri said, pulling Victor to him, wrapping his arms around him. Usually they never shared a bed, but usually they were never drunk either. It was only minutes and they were both fast asleep— Victor holding Yuri as tight as he could, tears drying on his cheeks.

* * *

When Yuri woke up that morning, the bed on the other side of the room was empty. That was odd as Victor was always the one to wake him in the morning. This is well out of character.  
Screaming from the front room had Yuri jumping out of bed and running out to the kitchen area. Yakov was screaming as Lilia paced back and forth.

"Did you know about this?" Yakov screamed.

Rubbing his eyes, Yuri looked at them both. "Know about what?"

"Victor ran off to Japan… apparently he thinks Yuuri will be his coach," Lilia said.

What the hell? Shaking his head, Yuri went to get his phone. There was nothing on it. He would have figured Victor would have sent him a message, an email— anything. There was nothing. Sitting on his bed, he looked over at the perfectly made bed of Victor's. How could he run off and not tell him? Victor told him everything. Yuri was numb, felt betrayed.

"He didn't even say anything… do I mean that little to him?" Yuri asked his cat— only getting a small pur as his fingers trailed through the fluffy fur.

He could hear Yakov screaming as Lilia tried to calm him down. Yuri knew that would be no use. Laying back down in his bed, he covered the blanket over his head, hoping it was all just a bad dream.

* * *

"You two just barely made it! You will train harder!" Yakov screamed at Yuri and Victor.

Yuri could only roll his eyes as Victor leaned against him, his hand around waist, head on his shoulder, just giggling. Yuri did not see what the big deal was, they brought back gold and silver from the Grand Prix. What more did the old man want?

They skated longer hours than most of the other skaters, put in more time on the barre and spent very little time studying. Why did they need to study when they were athletes? Given one day off a week, they sat with tutors and rested their bodies on those days. Yuri hated his one day off was spent with an old woman with a monotone voice going over shit he did not want to even learn.

"We should skip tutoring tomorrow," Victor said as they warmed up on the ice.

"And do what?" Yuri asked.

Victor shrugged, "Just go somewhere.. anywhere."

"Count me in!" Yuri said as he skated off.

* * *

Even after the rejection at the banquet—you could not take Victor's smile away. Back at home, Yuri was used to the giggles that came from the small bed on the other side of the room.

He also got used to Victor not leaving when he did Skype calls with Otabek. Victor would lay on his belly on his bed, hands under his chin and just watch them. Yuri thought it was creepy and no matter how much he bitched at Victor, he never stopped or left the room.

Yuri had manipulated the timing of his calls so that he was catching Otabek after his workouts. Seeing him all sweaty and flushed did something to him. He felt his body stir and his pants get uncomfortable. He liked how casual they could be, and how easy it was to talk to him. Otabek had even commented once how he could see Victor watching them as they talked, Yuri waved it off, calling Victor a creeper or some insult.

Tonight when he called out, he was met with a topless Otabek who was sitting at his desk, his after work out drink in his hand and breathing heavy.

"Sorry, was running late," Otabek said.

"I could have called back."

"No need to, I made it." There was a smirk Otabek had that Yuri found charming. He was so emotionless with everything, but there was a glimpse of something different on their calls. He looked forward to them, and wished Victor would give him a few minutes of privacy. Yuri had to thank all the gods for the way that Otabek was still glistening with sweat. The way the droplets were running down his neck and chest, dark brown nipples peaked—he was completely distracted.

He hated how turned on it made him, but thankful he was seated at his desk today and not on his bed. Wearing track pants made it noticeable the way he was affected by it all. Every time Otabek brought the small towel to wipe his forehead, Yuri could see the lines in his biceps and felt his mouth go dry.

As the call ended, Yuri sat back and sighed deeply. He had forgotten Victor was still there— laid out on his bed, giggling at him, reading a manga.

"What are you laughing at?" Yuri growled out.

Victor's looked over his way, then looked down.

"Fuck off!" Yuri growled as he tried to adjust himself in his pants.

Victor rolled his eyes and set his manga down. "Just come here and I'll take care of it."

How weird was it, that Yuri got turned on by Otabek, but went over to Victor afterwards? Two people so opposite—Victor was long and lean and Otabek was short and stacked. Where Otabek was dark, Victor was pale. Otabek was quiet and reserved, Victor wore his heart on his sleeve.

Laying on the bed, Victor straddled Yuri's lap and started to rock his hips. Their cocks rubbed together as Victor's hair spilled all down around his shoulders, covering Yuri. Holding Victor's long hair back, he gasped as Victor rolled his hips and covered his mouth with his.

They had been so used to kissing each other, it came naturally. Tongues sliding together, bites on their lower lips, moaning out as their cocks rubbed— they had become in sync with one another. Yuri knew exactly how to get Victor off easily— as did Victor. Hands grabbing at the other as they held their cocks together, hands sliding over them, gasping loudly.

How bad of a person was he for staring at Victor, but thinking of Otabek? Yuri had to push those thoughts away as he starting cumming, feeling Victor's hand tighten around his cock. It was only moments later and Victor followed suit.

They didn't cuddle. That was what couples did. He passed a tissue to Victor, kissed him quickly and went back over to his bed.

No, they were not a couple. He knew they were each thinking about someone else as they did this. He knew Victor's mind was centered on Yuuri— though he still had no idea what he saw in that pig.

* * *

Victor had a plan. He had booked a room at the Inn and knew when Yuuri would come out to the hot springs. It was his only chance!

Sure it was rash and insane—packing up him and Makkachin and traveling across the world in hopes his favorite skater would take notice of him, it was a risk he was willing to take. Tying up his hair so it was high on his head, He stripped down completely and bathed in the water—waiting on Yuuri to appear. It would be perfect—the water was warm enough to make his skin a pinkish color, his hair damp. There was no way Yuuri could say no to him. He was not nervous, there was no way he could be turned down. He was young and in the best shape of his life.

The moment he saw Yuuri burst through the doors, Victor gave him his best smile he could as he rose from the water—his body on full display.

"Yuuri, starting today, you will be my coach. I'll win the Grand Prix Final!"

* * *

"I am glad you two got back safe," Otabek said over the Skype call.

Victor was off pouting in his bed and had not spoken to Yuri the moment he drug him to the airport in Japan. It was for his own good, but Yuri felt bad—Victor really did seem heartbroken.

"Da, now to get this crybaby back on the ice," Yuri said.

"What?" Otabek asked.

"Yeah, ever since we got back, Victor refuses to skate."

"Stop talking about me as if I am not here!" Victor cried out, punching his pillow .

Yuri trolled his eyes and got to talking with Otabek, ignoring Victor as he pouted and threw a fit. He was looking forward to seeing him at Worlds. Yuri was hoping they could move their friendship into something more. As their call ended, he could see Victor still had his back to him as he stared up at the posters of Yuuri.

"How about we rip them all down?" Yuri asked.

Victor shook his head and rose to his knees, carefully taking each tac out of the wall and then gently folding the poster. With a heavy sigh, Yuri joined him on the bed and helped. If it were him, he would have ripped them all and started a bonfire with them.

They quietly took down each poster and news article Victor had all on his side of the room then he watched Victor tuck them under his bed.

"You're a good friend," Victor said, running his hand down Yuri's face.

"Well at least I don't have to stare at that pig anymore."

Yuri only hoped Worlds would go well for them both. As much as he hated to admit it, he had gotten use to seeing Katsuki all over Victor's side of the room— it looked weird now.

Grabbing Victor and laying down, he held him in his arms. Victor wasn't crying anymore, that was good.

* * *

Yuri had been looking forward to Worlds, as Victor did too. They would get to see Otabek and Yuuri.

Yuri worried after the stunt Victor pulled if Yuuri would even acknowledge him.

 _He didn't_. All Victor got was a wave from Yuuri before they started their short program.

"You think he is going to be ok?" Otabek whispered to him.

"Knowing Victor, he will go out there and knock out a damn world record," Yuri mumbled.

 _Which Victor did, of course._

Yuri was thrilled that Otabek had gotten a motorbike again. They were able to go on long rides and see the country. It was great. He loved sitting on the back of the bike, feeling it vibrate his body as he wrapped his arms around Otabek.

Otabek pulled over at a nearby down to grab dinner. Yuri thought it was so romantic and nice. Otabek was a gentleman too— holding the door open and even suggesting a dish for him to order.

The night had been perfect. Yuri had sat and just stared at how perfect Otabek looked. His sharp jawline and dark eyes. They had both skated well and then were given leave for the rest of the day. He felt guilty for leaving Victor behind, but they already spent most their time together; some time together apart was good.

He didn't want to the night to end. The ride back to the hotel was faster than he wanted. It was awkward as he got off the bike, he wasn't ready to go back to his room. They stood next to the bike and talked a little bit— Yuri was waiting for his chance, any chance.

When the moment came, Yuri went to lean in, only to have Otabek turn his face and back away.

"Yura," Otabek said, running his hand down his arm, "I don't see you that way."

Spinning on the balls of his feet, Yuri ran as fast as could— to his hotel room where he knew Victor was waiting up for him.

* * *

Hair was in his face and his head was pounding. What the hell? Pushing the hair from his face, Yuri could feel a weight on his chest. Victor was snoring softly against him.

They had slept in the same bed.

Wrinkled suits from the banquet and hungover, Yuri pushed Victor off of him and went to stand up. His legs wobbled and he sat back down again. He was not sure if he was still drunk or just hungover. Holding his head, he groaned.

"Yuri?" Victor groaned out, "Tell me last night was a dream."

He could hear the cracking in Victor's voice. His head was spinning and he couldn't handle all of this right now. It was easier to hold Victor to him and let him cry again. Kissing Victor's forehead, Yuri wished his head would stop pounding. "I wish I could tell you it was a dream."

It should have been awkward, it should have been weird. Maybe it was the hangover that was making it all not so bad. Yuri fell back to sleep holding Victor in his arms, like it was the most natural thing ever.

* * *

It wasn't that Yuri was jealous. He was furious. Victor told him everything but mentioned nothing of taking off to Japan to chase after that fat pig. That night as Yakov and Lilia drank themselves to sleep, Yuri packed his own bag and booked a flight. It would leave right as the sun was rising—before Yakov and Lilia woke up.

He could take the bus to the airport, go and get Victor—bringing him back.

Victor did not belong in Japan, he belonged in Russia.

No, Yuri was not jealous. He would _never_ be jealous over that fat pig.

That was what he told himself—even as he rushed into the ice rink and stood next to the pig, watching Victor skate. There was a difference as Victor skated— something there that had not been there before. The way his hair flowed around him, the emotion in his face that radiated through his body.

No, Victor did not belong in Japan— he belonged in Russia.

"I'm taking him back home with me," Yuri growled. He looked over at Yuuri, seeing him in the flesh and not in a poster on their bedroom wall—he still didn't see it. What did this pig have? He was average at best.

"I think that is best," Yuuri agreed.

* * *

"You need to get back on the ice," Yuri said that morning as he woke up, changing to his work out gear. They had ballet that morning, then practice that afternoon.

"I am staying in bed."

Sighing, Yuri went over where Victor was still laid in bed and pulled his covers off of him. Victor was curled out, hugging his legs to his chest. It had been a few days, he didn't understand why Yakov was letting him just sit around and mope.

Victor had not smiled in days, he hated to admit how much he missed it. No matter what was happening; a bad day on the ice, the tutor being overly boring—Yuri could count on Victor smiling and brightening his day.

"Stop being so self absorbed and get the fuck up!" Yuri yelled. "Ok, so what? Yuuri let you come back home! Big deal! What about me? You ran off and left me behind!" Yuri had had enough. He had kept this all bottled up and now it was over spilling.

Victor sat up and blinked his eyes as he looked at Yuri— it was almost as if a realization had hit him.

"You came and got me," Victor whispered, pulling his knees back to his chest and hugging him.

Yuri grumbled and sat next to him on the bed, wrapping his arm around him, "You are stuck with me, dammit. Don't ever think about leaving me again."

Victor tilted his head so their heads touched. It was such a small gesture, but it made Yuri feel better, all the tension in his body washing away.

"You're stuck with me too," Victor said quietly.

A loud kiss on his cheek then Victor had gotten up, changing into his workout clothes as if nothing had happened. When Victor pulled the shirt over his head, pulling his hair out, he smiled at Yuri.

He really did miss that smile.

* * *

"Why is he even here?" Yuuri asked him.

Yuri could only shake his head as he watched Victor do high level spins on the ice, his hair flowing around him. He couldn't have looked more beautiful if he had tried. It was hard to take your eyes off of him.

"I mean, I get it… he has a crush… but you don't flay around the world for a crush," Yuuri said.

"You do if you are Victor."

Yuuri sighed and rested against the wall, "He is quite beautiful… maybe if it was another time and place…"

"You'd be damn lucky to have someone like Victor," Yuri growled out.

Yuuri shook his head. "He is a kid and has his entire career ahead of him. I am at the end of mine."

Victor's laughter rang all around them as he spun in graceful circles.

"I'd only destroy that laughter and light in him," Yuuri said, leaning against the wall, never taking his eyes off Victor. "You're a good friend for coming for him."

Sometimes Yuri wondered if there was a way to extinguish the light in Victor. It shone so bright and was almost blinding some days. Even he himself was not immune to it. Many times when he was upset over messing up a jump, Victor was always there, holding his hand out and talking him through it.

Victor was too good for Yuuri.

* * *

Victor had rarely seen Yuri this upset. When he came crashing through the hotel room, flinging himself at him, all Victor could do was brace himself as Yuri screamed into his chest.

"Yuri?"

It must have gone bad with Otabek. Stroking Yuri's hair, Victor held his friend tightly. He could feel Yuri trembling in his arms. He sighed. They had the worst luck. Yuuri had barely even looked his way, and by the way Yuri was screaming he knew it was not good.

"He… turned his head away from my kiss!" Yuri yelled.

"Oh Yuri… I am so sorry."

He felt hands on his face as Yuri rose and looked at him. "You won't turn away from me, will you?"

No, he never turned away from Yuri. Leaning in, he gently kissed Yuri's lips. "Never."

* * *

They did play hookie, not telling Yakov where they went. That morning they took off as Lilia and Yakov had breakfast, sipping their tea. Wearing street clothes since it was a tutoring day, they slipped out the door and ran to the bus stop.

It was crazy, it was wild. Yuri had never done anything like this before. Laughter rang behind him from Victor as they made their way to the bus station.

"So what are we doing today?" Yuri asked.

"Anything we want! Let's be free!" Victor said, spreading his arms out and spinning.

He found he was laughing as Victor did this. So carefree, always so happy, regardless what was happening. Yuri couldn't help but get sucked into the laughter. Even as Victor grabbed his hands and started jumping up and down— Yuri knew they looked silly, but he didn't care.

As they boarded the bus, they took it down to the mall and walked around, both had turned off their phones, knowing Yakov was losing his mind right about now. Walking around without a care, getting snacks and drinks they weren't allowed to have— they had a chance to be teenagers.

"Let's get lunch and go to the movies!" Victor said.

"I hear there is a really bloody horror movie out!"

Victor made a sour face and shook his head, "Comedy!"

Yuri laughed, "Fine, but let's buy loads of candy and popcorn!"

Grabbing Victor's hand, Yuri found this time he was the one laughing as they ran down the sidewalk.

* * *

Victor was laid up on his bed as they were getting ready for bed. Yuri was going through Otabek's Instagram account and liking everything he could.

"I don't know what you see in him," Victor said, turning over on his stomach and looking up at Yuri.

Yuri was laid on his back with his phone in the air, scrolling through the pictures. "He is different than anyone I know."

"Well so I am."

"That you are."

He could hear Victor huff out and continue to stare at him. Yuri didn't get it, Victor sat all day swooning over a fat pig. But when Yuri showed interest in someone, it was as if Victor got really clingy.

"You think you will try to go out to Almaty?" Victor asked.

"I'd like to… doubt Yakov would let me go."

"I wanna go to Japan! Maybe we should run away!"

Yuri rolled his eyes. Of course Victor would think something like sneaking out was the answer. "And do what? Hope a plane across the globe?"

"Sure! Why not?"

Yuri gave Victor an annoyed look and went back to his phone. It was when Victor's hands ran under his shirt and started to tickle him the dropped his phone and started cursing at Victor. It did not matter as Victor wouldn't stop. No matter how much Yuri squirmed and fought, Victor was able to pin him down and tickle him till he almost cried.

"Ok, I'll stop," Victor said as he rolled off Yuri. When Yuri looked, he noticed Victor was hard.

"Gross! You got hard by tickling me?" Yuri asked. He could see the blush on Victor's face as he buried his head in the pillow. Yuri shook his head as he hand ran down Victor's side. "You are hopeless. You know that?" His hand dipping under Victor's waist band, grabbing his cock and stroking it.

* * *

Victor could not believe it. Yuuri had grabbed a robe and covered him, then ushered him to another room and demanded he get dressed. Victor was so confused. Even more confused as the next day Yuuri was nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Katsuki seemed to be really sweet and caring. She kept bringing him out food and tea and giving him a warm smile.

By the third day Yuuri had taken him to the ice rink. Victor had missed the ice and took off across it. He could get lost out there—forget everything bad that had ever happen. It was just him and ice.

The more he spun around, the more he felt his hair twirl around his body—he loved the feeling of his hair flowing around him as he did his spins and leaps. As the softer mood washed over it—it all came crashing down.

"Hey Victor! Mind if we have a chat?" Yuri screamed from across the ice.

Dammit, so much for running away. Stopping his spin, he looked over where Yuri was standing—next to Yuuri. The smile growing on his face. Yuri _did_ come to get him. He could always count on Yuri.

* * *

Yuri had gotten bronze at worlds, Victor gold. It was weird— he had allowed his emotions to take him over. As he went into his free skate— it started off bad and he snapped out of it, able to claw his way to the podium. It was weird being on this block, seeing Victor so high above him, smiling as always.

"We did it Yuri!" Victor said as he leaped off the first place spot, hugging him tightly.

"Yeah, we did."

Cameras were flashing all around them, even as Victor kissed his cheek. Yuri was still numb from so much, but knew he needed to be happy for his friend.

 _His friend._

Victor was his friend, and had been is friend. No matter what happened, it had always been the two of them. Even as they both had their hearts broken, they stood on the podium together. Shit, Yuri even went across the world to get Victor and bring him back. As Yuri thought back, so much had happened between him and Victor. His hatred towards him turning to fondness. It was hard to imagine how life would be without Victor around.

"Smile," Victor said to him.

Yuri couldn't help it, the way Victor was smiling, it was infectious. Even as he thought about how their friendship had grown over time, how he found himself running to Victor after the previous night with Otabek.

Maybe this was where he belonged. Cameras still flashing as Victor held his medal up, and his arm wrapped around Yuri, it felt right, it felt good, it felt natural.

"It's you," Yuri said, the realization hitting him.

"What?"

More cameras flashed around them, people asking for comments— Yuri ignoring them.

"It has always been you, hasn't it?" Yuri asked as his arm snaked around Victor's waist, holding him closer.

There was a sparkle in Victor's eyes. "I'm always here for you, Yuri."

Shaking his head, Yuri could not get all his emotions together.

"No, asshole. I mean... Us."

"What are you saying?"

He wasn't thinking, of course when it came to him and Victor, there was never any thinking about it. Maybe that was why they worked so well together. Letting go of his medal, he ran his fingers down Victor's face. There was no thought anymore— it all just felt right.

"Us," Yuri said before leaning in and kissing Victor. He no longer cared who saw them. He didn't care that Otabek was out there watching, or that Yuuri saw them. Fuck them, let the world see. Moving his hand to the back of Victor's head, he deepened the kiss, pleased that Victor kissed back and didn't push him away.

When Victor did break away, he was still smiling, "Yes, us."


End file.
